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Bruce Milligan: In Praise Of The Lowly Chapbook
From Bruce's article: "The books themselves run the gamut of printing and binding techniques: letterpress, offset, even laser printing; commissioned handmade paper, high-end linen paper, best-available-at-the-local-paper-store-on-Friday-afternoon paper; almost all have hand-sewn bindings—Coptic, Japanese, or plain saddle stitching. All are signed and numbered, with print runs no larger than 500 copies. Prices range from $14 to $75. What they all have in common is that they almost always sell out within the first year or two and, being “collectibles,” the last few available copies inevitably escalate in value, sometimes precipitously."
Susan Tepper Interview: Final Question
Tree: Well, Susan, these are going to be your last soul-searching questions, unless we come up with some more. I want to pry a bit into your innermost thoughts today, so my first question is this:
Do you keep a journal?
Susan: I have never kept a journal. I was taught if you write it down, you've already begun. I'd rather just dive right into the fiction and poetry.
I spend a huge amount of time revising my fiction, many stories have gone through thirty to fifty rewrites. Same thing with the novels.
Huge amounts of time spent on rewrites. I end up with a mound of papers before the piece is complete for me. Raymond Carver said you know you're done when you take out punctuation, put it back, then take it out again. In other words, when the redundancy kicks in. I can tell I'm done when I'm happy with it each time I read it over.
Sure, over the years, I can see things in published work that I might tweak a bit. But once it's done, it's pretty much set in stone for me.
Poetry is a little different. I write short poems that come out fast. Some work well and get published quickly. Others, I let sit, and might revise a year later. Revision for me, with poetry, is more about form than words. I write abstract poetry, so in revision I might slide the lines around a bit, which can cast the poem in a different light. Abstract poetry is more like painting, in the sense that it makes its statement on the page by where it appears when the line is "speaking." I hope that makes sense.
Tree: I know this is a question asked of all writers but for me it has an enduring interest. What writers do you return to and read over and over? Contrastively, who are some new writers you are excited about?
Susan: William Trevor is a staple for me. I have never read a William Trevor story that failed. He has brilliance on every level: his craft, his choices, the way he understands the human psyche and its weaknesses and failings. Simply amazing. I think that's a true gift some are born with, and he made the decision to steer it into writing.
I also read Jean Thompson. Her unusual take on life really spikes her fiction, I'm very fond of her work.
Mark Wisniewski, who I've been reading for twenty years, just knocks me out. He goes places I wish I could go. I think of Mark as my "spirit writer." I finally met him, when I invited him to read in my FIZZ series at KGB Bar. He is as nice as he is talented.
With poetry, it's Simon Perchik that I read over and over. I interviewed him twice, and reviewed his opus book Hands Collected for the Boston Review. That book spanned fifty years of his poetry. We have become close friends, and Simon is my poet mentor. I feel truly blessed by this.
Tree: I go back to Trevor over and over, keep his big fat collected stories beside my bed. Mark Wisniewski is a favorite as well. What an enigmatic thinker! I'll have to investigate Jean Thompson (like tomorrow!). Simon Perchik is wonderful. We like so many of the same writers. No wonder I'm drawn to your work. Okay, let's go on to the next question.
Would you free associate these phrases. No need to explain. We won't make the mysterious mundane!
The first phrase is this. What do you think of when you think of a good place to be?
Susan: My bed, in a sweater, St. Martin in the Fields Church concert, KGB announcing my readers, greenhouse in winter, local ice cream parlor, Prague, Waterloo Bridge, tea in the Crypt, St. James Park, Marios cafe, the Jimmy concerts
Tree: What are some places where you wouldn't want to go?
Susan: Cemeteries, Madrid, Las Vegas, Detroit, para-sailing, deep sea diving, family reunions
Tree: Well, I said I wouldn't ask but I hope someday you'll explain these to me. I can understand not wanting to go to Detroit, but Madrid? And I've always thought Las Vegas would be the Grand Canyon of Neon. Love to go there just once.
Okay, this is the final question. Let us in on the secret. What are you working on now?
Susan: A bunch of things. A novel of linked stories, a story about a museum guard, a story about a man who lives in Prague. And always poems... when they want to come to me. !
Tree: Susan, thank you for spending this time with us. Good luck with Deer
Do you keep a journal?
Susan: I have never kept a journal. I was taught if you write it down, you've already begun. I'd rather just dive right into the fiction and poetry.
I spend a huge amount of time revising my fiction, many stories have gone through thirty to fifty rewrites. Same thing with the novels.
Huge amounts of time spent on rewrites. I end up with a mound of papers before the piece is complete for me. Raymond Carver said you know you're done when you take out punctuation, put it back, then take it out again. In other words, when the redundancy kicks in. I can tell I'm done when I'm happy with it each time I read it over.
Sure, over the years, I can see things in published work that I might tweak a bit. But once it's done, it's pretty much set in stone for me.
Poetry is a little different. I write short poems that come out fast. Some work well and get published quickly. Others, I let sit, and might revise a year later. Revision for me, with poetry, is more about form than words. I write abstract poetry, so in revision I might slide the lines around a bit, which can cast the poem in a different light. Abstract poetry is more like painting, in the sense that it makes its statement on the page by where it appears when the line is "speaking." I hope that makes sense.
Tree: I know this is a question asked of all writers but for me it has an enduring interest. What writers do you return to and read over and over? Contrastively, who are some new writers you are excited about?
Susan: William Trevor is a staple for me. I have never read a William Trevor story that failed. He has brilliance on every level: his craft, his choices, the way he understands the human psyche and its weaknesses and failings. Simply amazing. I think that's a true gift some are born with, and he made the decision to steer it into writing.
I also read Jean Thompson. Her unusual take on life really spikes her fiction, I'm very fond of her work.
Mark Wisniewski, who I've been reading for twenty years, just knocks me out. He goes places I wish I could go. I think of Mark as my "spirit writer." I finally met him, when I invited him to read in my FIZZ series at KGB Bar. He is as nice as he is talented.
With poetry, it's Simon Perchik that I read over and over. I interviewed him twice, and reviewed his opus book Hands Collected for the Boston Review. That book spanned fifty years of his poetry. We have become close friends, and Simon is my poet mentor. I feel truly blessed by this.
Tree: I go back to Trevor over and over, keep his big fat collected stories beside my bed. Mark Wisniewski is a favorite as well. What an enigmatic thinker! I'll have to investigate Jean Thompson (like tomorrow!). Simon Perchik is wonderful. We like so many of the same writers. No wonder I'm drawn to your work. Okay, let's go on to the next question.
Would you free associate these phrases. No need to explain. We won't make the mysterious mundane!
The first phrase is this. What do you think of when you think of a good place to be?
Susan: My bed, in a sweater, St. Martin in the Fields Church concert, KGB announcing my readers, greenhouse in winter, local ice cream parlor, Prague, Waterloo Bridge, tea in the Crypt, St. James Park, Marios cafe, the Jimmy concerts
Tree: What are some places where you wouldn't want to go?
Susan: Cemeteries, Madrid, Las Vegas, Detroit, para-sailing, deep sea diving, family reunions
Tree: Well, I said I wouldn't ask but I hope someday you'll explain these to me. I can understand not wanting to go to Detroit, but Madrid? And I've always thought Las Vegas would be the Grand Canyon of Neon. Love to go there just once.
Okay, this is the final question. Let us in on the secret. What are you working on now?
Susan: A bunch of things. A novel of linked stories, a story about a museum guard, a story about a man who lives in Prague. And always poems... when they want to come to me. !
Tree: Susan, thank you for spending this time with us. Good luck with Deer
Susan Tepper Interview, Question #3--Intuition or Planning?
Tree: I know you have characterized yourself as an intuitive, spontaneous writer, as compared to an outliner or planner. Could you share some thoughts about your writing habits, even such mundane things (that can be very important) as, for example, pens or pencils. Special kind of pen? What kind of notebooks? Home or cafés? Any computer programs? Neat or tidy desk? Give us a picture of you as a working writer!
Susan: If you can picture someone acting compulsively, then you pretty much get me as a writer.
It's my drug of choice.
I wake up with poems on my brain in the middle of the night and dash into the next room to write them down. Lately that has eased up a bit, thank god.
But I'm like the person who buys the big double pack of Oreos and sits down and eats until the last cookie is gone. In other words, I have no will or willpower over writing.
Tree: But as a writer, you do have to sit down and work on something. Of all the writing projects I presume you have in your brain, how do you organize the day's work?
Susan: I don't make decisions. I don't say: I want to write a novel. I sit down at my computer in a cramped, pathetically overstuffed little room and start typing and whatever comes through me onto the page, that's what I write. The other day, I overheard someone saying something in a diner, and I thought: that would make a good story title.
If writing wasn't so completely enthralling to me, I probably would have gone nuts by now. The whole thing totally absorbs me. The writing, the submitting, the promotion, the editing, the magazine, my writer friends, my reading series... on and on.
Tree: But what about the times you need for actual writing? Do you like mornings, afternoons, any particular needs of that sort?
Susan: The only time I'm not writing on a daily basis is when I'm traveling. I never travel with a laptop or notebook. I adore travel so much, I want to take in everything without being distracted. If I could travel endlessly, I might quit writing.
Oh! I just caught a little insight. Writing is travel! So that's the key to the puzzle -- I'm a compulsive traveler! In actual travel, I travel with my husband, Miles, who is a great travel companion.
Tree: What can I say? I'm an organized writer who makes endless lists and action plans. But a part of me is just like you. I usually start the day with very free-wheeling writing exercises and I have to say some of my best writing has come from those times when I empty my mind and just type whatever comes directly from my brain to my fingertips.
I think it's good for writers to be comfortable with both approaches and draw on them as needed, maybe trust an intuitive approach for the initial work and then re-approach it more critically for the revision. But we have to trust the duende who bring us the ideas and the flow, right? Never second guess them or they might stop helping us! Thanks, Susan. Until tomorrow!
Susan: If you can picture someone acting compulsively, then you pretty much get me as a writer.
It's my drug of choice.
I wake up with poems on my brain in the middle of the night and dash into the next room to write them down. Lately that has eased up a bit, thank god.
But I'm like the person who buys the big double pack of Oreos and sits down and eats until the last cookie is gone. In other words, I have no will or willpower over writing.
Tree: But as a writer, you do have to sit down and work on something. Of all the writing projects I presume you have in your brain, how do you organize the day's work?
Susan: I don't make decisions. I don't say: I want to write a novel. I sit down at my computer in a cramped, pathetically overstuffed little room and start typing and whatever comes through me onto the page, that's what I write. The other day, I overheard someone saying something in a diner, and I thought: that would make a good story title.
If writing wasn't so completely enthralling to me, I probably would have gone nuts by now. The whole thing totally absorbs me. The writing, the submitting, the promotion, the editing, the magazine, my writer friends, my reading series... on and on.
Tree: But what about the times you need for actual writing? Do you like mornings, afternoons, any particular needs of that sort?
Susan: The only time I'm not writing on a daily basis is when I'm traveling. I never travel with a laptop or notebook. I adore travel so much, I want to take in everything without being distracted. If I could travel endlessly, I might quit writing.
Oh! I just caught a little insight. Writing is travel! So that's the key to the puzzle -- I'm a compulsive traveler! In actual travel, I travel with my husband, Miles, who is a great travel companion.
Tree: What can I say? I'm an organized writer who makes endless lists and action plans. But a part of me is just like you. I usually start the day with very free-wheeling writing exercises and I have to say some of my best writing has come from those times when I empty my mind and just type whatever comes directly from my brain to my fingertips.
I think it's good for writers to be comfortable with both approaches and draw on them as needed, maybe trust an intuitive approach for the initial work and then re-approach it more critically for the revision. But we have to trust the duende who bring us the ideas and the flow, right? Never second guess them or they might stop helping us! Thanks, Susan. Until tomorrow!
Susan Tepper Interview, Question #2--Magical Realism
Tree: Okay, we're ready for question #2, continuing our exploration of the scenes behind the scenes of your stories, and here it is!
Transport one of your characters to his/her dying days. Using first person, talk about a moment (or two or three) when this character was happiest, when something "clicked." In other words, what are one or several things in life that brought him/her some happiness in spite of everything?
Susan: Very cool question! Ok, I'll go with the character Maura, in Elvis Out of The Meditation Garden.
Tree: Before we read more about Maura's dying thoughts, could you fill us in a bit on her background?
In the story she's a young woman in her twenties, kind of sweet and not especially interested in her boyfriend Ramey, who is pressuring her to marry him. But Maura is very interested in Elvis, who they've stolen from his grave, and transported to their Elm Street Community Theatre, for a special Elvis musical event. For the purpose of answering your question, Maura is now in her forties.
Whoever knew that living near power lines could cause you so much trouble? I was just so happy to finally have a house, a nice old white clapboard house. For about the first decade we lived here, I never really paid attention to the phone lines and all that electricity strung pole to pole through the back yards.
I was busy raising our twins, Julie and Jim, while my husband Mark was on the road a lot. Sales. I never liked when he had to leave, it worried me, not that I'm afraid of being alone, but I worried about the women. There are always women around men who travel. Elvis traveled. Priscilla must've spent a lot of time alone with Lisa Marie.
But back when I knew Elvis, that short while at the theatre, I'll confess I wasn't really thinking about Priscilla. Sure, her name had come up a few times but she was history. I wasn't. I was there and Elvis was there and it was magic! He had touched my breast! Held onto it. Until my boyfriend Ramey made him let go.
Now I touch where my breast used to be and hold my breath remembering.
If only I had figured out a way to be alone with Elvis before he had to leave us. I should have gotten Ramey out of the theatre on some pretense. I should have led Elvis over to the pink velvet couch from our Arsenic and Old Lace production. I know Elvis would have followed me.
I knew it then and still know it. Nothing can take that away. I touch my phantom breast again and I can feel Elvis inside me, deep in my body. That makes me rest more easily.
Tree: When I read this story, I think "magical realism." Did you consciously write this story to fit into this category? Is this a school of writing you are interested in?
Susan: Magical realism is wonderful! I love the stories of Garcia Marquez, which I read intermittently. I have written a few pieces that I suppose could be put into that genre. One is a story called "Above the Clouds Midnight Passes" which was published by Crannog Magazine in Ireland, and inspired by seeing a Max Ernst exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. What an incredible painter!
But I have to say I don't consciously choose which way a story goes. The Elvis story could have turned out to be one that takes place while he's alive. But somehow his wanting whiter teeth forced it into the present. And, of course he's dead! So the story had to become whimsical on some plane. Here's what I remember about the "Elvis" story. I woke up with the first line in my mind and could picture Elvis saying it. I typed that first line and the rest followed. I'd be happy to have someone call this story Magical Realism.
Tree: Well, Magical Realism is one of my favorite genres and I think this story definitely has an honored place there. Thank you, Susan. I look forward to your answer to tomorrow's question, when we pry into your writing habits! Until then!
Transport one of your characters to his/her dying days. Using first person, talk about a moment (or two or three) when this character was happiest, when something "clicked." In other words, what are one or several things in life that brought him/her some happiness in spite of everything?
Susan: Very cool question! Ok, I'll go with the character Maura, in Elvis Out of The Meditation Garden.
Tree: Before we read more about Maura's dying thoughts, could you fill us in a bit on her background?
In the story she's a young woman in her twenties, kind of sweet and not especially interested in her boyfriend Ramey, who is pressuring her to marry him. But Maura is very interested in Elvis, who they've stolen from his grave, and transported to their Elm Street Community Theatre, for a special Elvis musical event. For the purpose of answering your question, Maura is now in her forties.
Whoever knew that living near power lines could cause you so much trouble? I was just so happy to finally have a house, a nice old white clapboard house. For about the first decade we lived here, I never really paid attention to the phone lines and all that electricity strung pole to pole through the back yards.
I was busy raising our twins, Julie and Jim, while my husband Mark was on the road a lot. Sales. I never liked when he had to leave, it worried me, not that I'm afraid of being alone, but I worried about the women. There are always women around men who travel. Elvis traveled. Priscilla must've spent a lot of time alone with Lisa Marie.
But back when I knew Elvis, that short while at the theatre, I'll confess I wasn't really thinking about Priscilla. Sure, her name had come up a few times but she was history. I wasn't. I was there and Elvis was there and it was magic! He had touched my breast! Held onto it. Until my boyfriend Ramey made him let go.
Now I touch where my breast used to be and hold my breath remembering.
If only I had figured out a way to be alone with Elvis before he had to leave us. I should have gotten Ramey out of the theatre on some pretense. I should have led Elvis over to the pink velvet couch from our Arsenic and Old Lace production. I know Elvis would have followed me.
I knew it then and still know it. Nothing can take that away. I touch my phantom breast again and I can feel Elvis inside me, deep in my body. That makes me rest more easily.
Tree: When I read this story, I think "magical realism." Did you consciously write this story to fit into this category? Is this a school of writing you are interested in?
Susan: Magical realism is wonderful! I love the stories of Garcia Marquez, which I read intermittently. I have written a few pieces that I suppose could be put into that genre. One is a story called "Above the Clouds Midnight Passes" which was published by Crannog Magazine in Ireland, and inspired by seeing a Max Ernst exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. What an incredible painter!
But I have to say I don't consciously choose which way a story goes. The Elvis story could have turned out to be one that takes place while he's alive. But somehow his wanting whiter teeth forced it into the present. And, of course he's dead! So the story had to become whimsical on some plane. Here's what I remember about the "Elvis" story. I woke up with the first line in my mind and could picture Elvis saying it. I typed that first line and the rest followed. I'd be happy to have someone call this story Magical Realism.
Tree: Well, Magical Realism is one of my favorite genres and I think this story definitely has an honored place there. Thank you, Susan. I look forward to your answer to tomorrow's question, when we pry into your writing habits! Until then!
Susan Tepper: Interview
Last month I posted a review of Susan Tepper's new and acclaimed book of short stories, Deer. This month I'm following that interview up with a series of interview questions. I'll be posting one question and answer each day this week.
Here's the interview for today!
Tree: Susan, since you lived with these characters a long time as you were I wonder how you would assimilate into your characters' landscapes, the worlds they live in. Of all the characters in your stories, which one lives in a landscape in which you would most like to spend a year?
Susan: Wow, tough to answer. My first thought was none. Most of these characters are struggling. Then I decided I could live in the landscape of childhood again, particularly the landscape of Henrietta in "Velvet Box." She's a scrappy girl, smart and independent. Life doesn't touch her. It's the suburbs, in the 1950's, when children were allowed to run free. She has her little tribe: younger sister, Bibi, and younger cousin, Pete. She's the leader of this pack and the world is her oyster. She tears around the neighborhood saying and doing pretty much as she pleases. There's grass and trees and dogs and caterpillars and hydrangea bushes and plastic lawn deer. There's also a violent neighbor, a repressive church and a dying uncle. Henrietta remains aloof from all that is not life affirming. She does this unconsciously. That life can be bad or difficult simply doesn't penetrate her spirit. And that is the ultimate freedom. I could definitely live there.
Tree: That sounds like my childhood. I would take off all day on my pony, with a BB gun and a lunch. Nobody worried about me all day. It's a sort of freedom children today don't know. I could live in that landscape again, although I'd do without the BB gun!
Tomorrow: Susan turns to the other end of life for one of her characters and discusses her thoughts when nearing death.
Here's the interview for today!
Tree: Susan, since you lived with these characters a long time as you were I wonder how you would assimilate into your characters' landscapes, the worlds they live in. Of all the characters in your stories, which one lives in a landscape in which you would most like to spend a year?
Susan: Wow, tough to answer. My first thought was none. Most of these characters are struggling. Then I decided I could live in the landscape of childhood again, particularly the landscape of Henrietta in "Velvet Box." She's a scrappy girl, smart and independent. Life doesn't touch her. It's the suburbs, in the 1950's, when children were allowed to run free. She has her little tribe: younger sister, Bibi, and younger cousin, Pete. She's the leader of this pack and the world is her oyster. She tears around the neighborhood saying and doing pretty much as she pleases. There's grass and trees and dogs and caterpillars and hydrangea bushes and plastic lawn deer. There's also a violent neighbor, a repressive church and a dying uncle. Henrietta remains aloof from all that is not life affirming. She does this unconsciously. That life can be bad or difficult simply doesn't penetrate her spirit. And that is the ultimate freedom. I could definitely live there.
Tree: That sounds like my childhood. I would take off all day on my pony, with a BB gun and a lunch. Nobody worried about me all day. It's a sort of freedom children today don't know. I could live in that landscape again, although I'd do without the BB gun!
Tomorrow: Susan turns to the other end of life for one of her characters and discusses her thoughts when nearing death.
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